


Playing the Game

by mckayla (steveromanov)



Series: Stevenat Fluffy Sexcapades [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bedroom Sex, Couch Sex, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, sparring leads to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3436823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steveromanov/pseuds/mckayla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had a sort of game: how many times could Natasha sneak up on Steve and how long would it take him to notice? That game, it seemed, would eventually bring them together in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing the Game

**Author's Note:**

> You asked for it, you got it! MORE STEVE/NAT SMUT YAY!
> 
> and with an even fluffier ending than the last, how about that? Enjoy!

It all started when Natasha couldn’t sleep one night and decided to take a trip up to the communal kitchen on one of the higher floors, where she found Steve binge-eating a bunch of food from the fridge in the dark. She watched him scarf down two cold slices of pizza, the rest of a takeover container of sweet and sour pork, about three-quarters of a watermelon and, lastly, a mouthful of whipped cream before she finally decided she had had enough amusement and caught his attention with a small, pointed cough. Even though the inner lighting from the refrigerator did little more than outline Steve’s silhouette, Natasha swore she saw him redden like one of the apples he was bound to reach for next.

Funnily enough, all Steve had as an explanation to the display she had walked in on was a shrug and the words, “the serum kind of blows my appetite out of proportion.”

At that, Natasha wryly scoffed. “Oh, really?”

From then on, it turned into a sort of game: how many times could Natasha sneak up on Steve and how long would it take him to notice?

And now, this was another instance of that game.

Natasha was leaning against the entrance to the gym in the Tower, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Steve beat the living hell out of one of the many punching bags hanging from the ceiling. His heavy pants of breath filled the room, each of them punctuated with a hefty jab, as Natasha waited patiently with a raised eyebrow from the doorway. Unlike the first time when this game had been initiated, she wasn’t about to bring attention to herself anytime soon, and the reason why was _definitely_ not because she liked watching Steve’s back muscles flex underneath the skin-hugging fabric of his shirt and the way his workout shorts outlined his ass in just the right way.

No. Not at all.

Finally, Steve turned his body ever so slightly towards her and did a double-take as her distinctive red hair caught the corner of his eye. He immediately straightened and dropped his arms out of a fighting stance, smiling despite the fact that he was still panting deeply, his broad chest lifting with each breath and making Natasha force herself not to stare. She was thankful when he finally spoke to her, giving her a reason to keep eye contact with him.

“Alright. How long this time?”

She didn’t dare move from her spot against the doorframe, and instead lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Only about five minutes. Truthfully, I didn’t come here to sneak up on you on purpose. I was actually going to try and squeeze in a workout.”

Steve glanced briefly at the weight bag swinging behind him before angling his head towards the boxing ring on the other side of the room. “I think I’ve done enough damage to this bag for today. You wanna be my next victim?”

Natasha scoffed at this, even though the sudden display of confidence made her squirm excitedly. Without hesitation, she walked toward the ring and, as she passed him, leaned to the side so that her face was mere inches from his and said, “I can kick your ass in about twelve different ways from Sunday, Rogers.”

Steve laughed softly and shook his head as he followed her, joining her in the ring where she was already stretching her arms across her chest and craning her neck from side to side. He rolled his shoulders, bouncing on the balls of his feet a few times just for show—and okay, maybe he just wanted to see her laugh a little bit—before he bent into a grappling stance and started to count down from three.

He had barely gotten the word “two” out before Natasha somersaulted forward, curling one of her legs behind his knee while simultaneously standing to press her forearm against his neck and using all of her body weight to throw him down. His back hit the mat as he let out an unwitting gasp of air, deciding that if she wanted to poke fun at him about the way-too-easy takedown later that he’d blame it on her clear advantage of surprise.

Steve allowed himself half a beat to gather his bearings before he flipped back up to his feet, scowling good-naturedly as Natasha smirked defiantly at him from across the ring.

“Gotta be quicker than that, Steve,” she said to him, her tone faintly husky. In fact, it was so slight that Steve thought he might have been imagining it, though he quickly shelved the thought in favor of trying to even the score with her.

“I was under the impression that this was gonna be a fair fight,” he smirked back as they slowly circled one another, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

Natasha tilted her head to the side. “Now, since when is anything fair with me?”

“You’ve got a point there,” the tail end of the sentence came out tight and strained as Steve mistook her conversation as a distraction on her part, lunging out at her legs with his arms outspread like the wings of a falcon. What he didn’t realize is that Natasha had lured him into making this assumption, and at the last second she twisted her body to the side and firmly grabbed Steve’s wrist, pinning his arm at an odd angle against his back, though she didn’t break the joint like she normally would in an actual fight and instead let him go after a few seemingly long seconds.

Steve let out a low growl that _might_ have sent a shiver down Natasha’s spine as he planted his hands firmly on the mat and pushed himself up, pivoting on the heels of his feet so that he was facing her again. Her smirk was still there and her eyes twinkled with something that he couldn’t exactly put his finger on, but he didn’t have the chance to even begin to guess as she dove forward in one quick, fluid motion and landed in a brief handstand before springing up from the mat and aiming her lower body right at Steve's head.

Normally, this attack would have immediately taken her target down, except Steve had anticipated the move to come sooner or later. He had seen Natasha utilize it more than once while fighting by her side in actual battles, as well as even on Clint and Stark when he happened to be in the gym while she had been sparring either of them in the ring. So, when she connected with him mid-air and wrapped her thighs around his neck, Steve didn’t instantly go down to the mat when she twisted her hips and attempted to use her body weight to topple him to the floor of the ring. Instead, he braced himself for the attack and planted his feet right where he stood, becoming as stiff and sturdy as a goddamn oak tree.

The only thing Steve _hadn’t_ expected, however, was his face being pressed flush against Natasha’s core as she gripped his head tight between her thighs and basically sat on his shoulders. For a brief moment, the both of them froze completely. Natasha’s hair fell around her face like a red curtain as she stared down at him, eyes seemingly blank of any emotion that could give away whatever was currently running through her mind, and Steve flicked his gaze up to meet her own, pupils blown and barely rimmed with an intense blue.

And then, the smug bastard that he was, Steve sucked in a deep, slow breath through his nose, which was pressed firmly against the lower part of her labia.

He was still staring up at her as Natasha let out a surprised gasp, and she could feel his lips quirk up against her in the slightest of smiles. When Steve shifted his jaw faintly so that it barely grazed her folds through her spandex, she parted her lips and looked down at him through half-lidded eyes and thick lashes.

“That’s not fair,” she murmured quietly.

Steve hummed lowly against her and the vibrations sent a shiver down her spine.

“Since when is anything ever fair with you?”

As soon as the muffled words left his mouth, Natasha removed her thighs from around his head and dropped down to her feet, immediately pressing her body against his and bringing his face down to hers in a hungry clash of tongues and lips. She walked them clumsily back until Steve bounced softly against the ropes fencing off the square of the ring, her palms rubbing against the bulge in his shorts before slipping beneath the hem of his shirt and raking at his abs to make him shudder. She trembled herself as he bit at her bottom lip, before lifting her by the waist so that she could wrap her legs around his midsection. She was significantly shorter than him and the angle had begun to make his neck hurt, despite the fact that pleasure was coursing through every nerve in his body, and as soon as they were level he worked to tugging her tank top over her head and mouthing a trail of flushed spots along the top of her breasts.

Despite the pleasure-induced gasp that escaped her mouth as Steve pushed his fingers beneath her bra and grazed them over one of her nipples, she wrapped her hand around his wrist and pushed it away, instead leaning down to kiss him pointedly on the lips. When they parted, she only lifted her head enough so that she could look him in the eyes.

“Not here,” she gasped, “One of the others could walk in at any time. My floor. _Now_.”

Steve reluctantly agreed, pecking her one last time on the lips before the two of them scrambled out of the ring and to the elevator in record speed. They made out as they waited for the elevator, they made out in the ride to her floor, and they continued to make out as they stepped back in the hallway and fumbled to get Natasha’s apartment’s door open. Steve damn near broke the handle off of the door as he attempted to—and poorly—multitask, sliding his tongue against hers as he also tried to insert the key in the lock without looking.

Finally, after countless failures, Natasha’s breathless voice spoke up as Steve moved to mouth along the curve of her neck.

“Jarvis, can you unlock the door, please?”

“As you wish, Ms. Romanoff.”

As the sound of the door clicking open filled their ears, Steve frowned and lifted his mouth away from Natasha’s skin, eliciting a groan of protest from the back of her throat.

“Seriously? You couldn’t have thought to do that when we _first_ got here?”

Natasha rolled her eyes at his exasperation and instead trailed one of her hands down his body, hooking a finger in the waistband of his shorts. She kicked the door open using her foot before using her other hand to pat the side of Steve’s jaw affectionately. “Patience is an attractive attribute to have, you know.”

Before he could even respond, she yanked him back into the apartment and shoved him against the wall, melting her lips against his without even a moment’s hesitation. Steve immediately responded, though he still managed to say between kisses, “Too—bad you—don’t—have any— _ah_!”

Natasha smirked defiantly up at him as she grabbed his bulge through his shorts, succeeding in getting Steve to stop talking, but only for a second. He let out a low, strained breath as he tacked on, “But you’re still _very_ attractive.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Rogers,” she chuckled, and the low, breathy sound shot right down to Steve’s straining erection.

Eyes darkening further, if that was even possible, Steve yanked Natasha’s tank top over her head and unclasped her bra behind her back in such a fast motion that it had taken even her by surprise. Next, he hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of both her underwear and pants, practically tearing them off her body before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her over to the modern beige sofa in the center of the living room.

Natasha landed on the sofa with a surprised laugh as Steve dropped her and pulled his own shirt over his head, though she quieted once he bent down and nudged her legs apart with his hand and leaned forward to plant soft, tender kisses to the skin below her belly button. He pointedly ignored the wet heat coursing between her legs and instead mouthed over her hipbones and between her inner thighs, where he pressed his cheek against her leg and stared up at her with determined, lust-filled eyes.

“You’re even more attractive from down here,” he growled, the breath from his mouth barely tickling her folds and sending a small shiver down her spine.

Natasha softly nudged the side of his head with her thigh, chewing her lip. “But like you said, patience isn’t a virtue of mine, so get to it, Steve.”

She ignored the edging desperation in her voice and instead sucked in a sharp breath as Steve smirked and dove in between her, parting her with his tongue and making one broad stroke before flittering the soft muscle against her clit. Instinctively, she carded her fingers through his hair, though she let her hand rest against the top of his head instead of tugging forcefully like she normally would have—though she couldn’t resist balling her fist in his blond strands when he dipped a finger inside of her and circled her clit with his tongue at the same time.

Natasha trembled as Steve worked her over with his mouth and heavenly muscular fingers, and the man seemed to only grow more determined with every shaky gasp and low utterance of Russian that crept past her parted lips. Soon enough she was arching her back off of the couch and pressing her core firmly against the lower half of his face, tugging his hair insistently with her fingers as she trembled and came undone.

When she finally unclenched her thighs from around his head and allowed him to draw away, he leaned up and trailed gentle kisses up her torso as she slowly flittered down from her high. She breathed in another low gasp as he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, though he soon pulled away to prevent from overstimulation, and she demandingly pulled his face to hers in a heavy, yet passionately slow kiss.

After they parted, Natasha roughly shoved his shorts down his thighs before pushing him back by the shoulders until he was in a normal sitting position, his back flat against the couch. Standing up, she relished in the fact that she was doing a good job at maintaining her balance despite the tremor in her legs, before she yanked his shorts down the rest of the way and allowed his impressive cock to spring free from its restraints.

Steve’s cock, like Steve himself, was perfect and pretty, but in the uniquely manly way that belonged to him and him only. The tip was flushed pink, contrastingly heavily with the light tan color of the rest of his groin, and glistened with pre-cum. Natasha bent down and lightly dragged her finger along the thick vein trailing up the underside. She allowed him—or maybe even herself—one wet, suctioning kiss to the head before climbing back on to the couch and straddling his waist with her creamy thighs, grinding tantalizingly slow against him as she bent her head forward and sucked his bottom lip between her teeth.

“ _Nat_ , you’re killing me,” he groaned, curling his fists into the cushions of the sofa on either side of him. At this, she smiled against his mouth and moved to press brief, if not hungry kisses along the sharp bone of his jaw before finally sucking his Adam’s apple into her mouth. It bobbed in a long swallow and Natasha nipped the skin one last time before leaning up and grasping Steve in her hand, slowly sinking down on him moments later with an unsteady exhale that mixed with his uncharacteristic curse in the air.

“Fuck, Tasha,” Steve’s head fell back against the top of the sofa with a soft _thud_ as the woman mentioned shifted her hips ever so slightly. She worked up to an even rhythm, grasping his shoulders tightly as he moved his own hands to rest firmly on her hips, though he quickly lifted one hand away in favor of slipping it between her slick thighs. He massaged his thumb around her aching clit, causing her head to tip back in a throaty moan as she shifted against him and grazed the digit just a little more forcefully against the tight bundle of nerves. Steve didn’t waste any time shoving his hand in the silky red strands on her head and tugging firmly, leaning forward—and simultaneously making Natasha gasp again at the slight change of angle—to kiss along her collar bone and leave pink marks on the arch of her neck. He eventually trailed his kisses downwards to her breasts, rolling one bud between his fingers as he released his hold on her hair, and flicking the other one with the tip of his pink tongue. She arched forward into his mouth, her body beginning to tremble already before she urgently grabbed his wrist between her thighs and pressed insistently upwards. With a loud cry of his name, Natasha underwent her second orgasm of the night, and the clench of her muscles around him sent Steve tipping over into his own pool of bliss moments after.

The two of them panted heavily, Natasha slumped over Steve’s chest and with his head buried between her neck and shoulder. After a few short beats, she reluctantly climbed off of him, rolling to the left before curling into his side. It was all very instinctive, and normally, after this point, she would have stood up, thrown on her clothes, and left. But this was Steve, and not only could she not just leave him post-sex as if he was some meaningless hook-up, she also found herself not wanting to, especially as he wrapped his arm around her back and nuzzled her deeper into his comfortingly warm body.

Natasha pressed a soft kiss to the side of his pectoral and drew lazy circles on the rough plains of his abdomen, listening to his heartbeat as her breathing finally turned to normal.

This was when she realized that Steve’s heart rate was still pumping fast and hard with exertion, and Natasha turned her head up to look at him questioningly in the eye before sliding her gaze back to his, she now realized, still stiff erection between his muscular thighs.

She crooked an eyebrow at him. “I know for a _fact_ you came, so—”

“Super-serum,” Steve quickly explained with a small shrug and shy blush, “My, uh, my refractory period is pretty much nonexistent.”

Natasha smiled wryly, just like she did the first time she found him scarfing down food in the communal kitchen all those months ago. “Oh, really?”

He smiled back, though that didn’t stop him from apologizing immediately after. “I’m sorry, you should get some rest. You must be tired.”

“Not so fast, soldier,” Natasha pushed herself up to look him coyly in the eye, wrapping her hand in his and standing up on still-shaky legs. “I’m not done with you yet. And apparently, you aren’t, either.”

Steve blushed again, though he obliged when Natasha tugged him up from the couch and led him back to her bedroom. The bed was rumpled, as if she hadn’t bothered making it that morning, though he didn’t have much time to look around the rest of her room before she turned and kissed him tenderly on the lips, draping her arms over his shoulders. She almost shivered as Steve waltzed his fingers gently across her lower back, hand settling just above the curve of her bottom moments later as the other relaxed against her hip. They stood like that for a few minutes, taking their time exploring each other’s’ mouths in contrast to the hurried pace that they were moving at earlier, before Steve’s cock twitched against her belly and he slowly laid her back on the bed.

As he joined her on the mattress, Steve rolled Natasha on to her side so that her back was facing him and leaned down to trail kisses along the nape of her neck and the curve to her shoulder blade. She gathered her scarlet hair on her opposite shoulder to provide Steve with more skin, and eventually he snaked his hand down the front of her body to crook his fingers between her thighs again. Instinctively, she reached back and curled a hand around the back of his neck, pulling his face deeper against her own as he kissed her shoulder and simultaneously massaged the wet heat between her legs. She let out a small whimper of protest once he drew his hand away to curl it under her thigh and lift so that he could slide in to her, and she whimpered again, though this time in relief, as his fingers found their way back to her clit.

Slowly, Steve began to thrust into her, his pelvis slapping gently against her bottom as he took her vaginally from behind. Her fingers tightened around the nape of his neck and his mouth never left the skin on her back as his thrusts—and his fingers—became more persistent, and soon he had Natasha trembling severely against the entire front of his body.

He moved his lips up to her ear. “Come on, Tasha,” he whispered, “Let go.”

In a cracked, breathy moan, Natasha dug her fingers into the top of Steve’s spine and arched her back away from his chest, freezing in that position for a brief, yet intense moment before shuddering in the throes of her orgasm. At the sight of her coming undone so beautifully before him, Steve thrust deep and hard two more times before burying his face into the back of her neck and gritting his teeth as he came, pressing his fingers so hard into her hip that he was sure he’d leave bruises for her to find the next day.

They lay there for a moment, Steve still inside of her, as they caught their breaths. Natasha’s eyes had fluttered shut and Steve was panting hotly against the spot between her shoulder blades, and despite the fact that she was totally and utterly sated and spent, she found the strength to lift her hand to where his lay on her hip and entwined their fingers together, her palm resting on the back of his much larger hand.

“Damn, Nat,” Steve half-whispered, half-groaned after a few comforting moments of silence.

She felt herself smile. “You weren’t so bad yourself, Rogers.”

Her smile broadened as Steve laughed against her back, moving their hands so that he could pull her body further into him without disentangling their fingers. He did, however, briefly lift her up so that he could slide out of her, and despite the fact that she let out a small moan of protest, she knew that if they wanted to get some sleep, it’d be pretty hard to do it with him still inside of her. With that, she rolled around so that she was facing him, and lifted a finger to brush gently along his bottom lip.

“You know, you’re really attractive from right here,” he murmured, looking into her olive eyes with such a tender expression that it made Natasha’s heart immediately soften—as if it hadn’t been already.

“You’re really attractive from right here, too,” she quietly replied with a small smile before hesitantly leaning forward and softly pressing their lips together. The next time she spoke, she didn’t bother moving her mouth completely away from his. “Now let’s get some sleep, Steve.”

* * *

The next morning Natasha woke up in an empty bed, though the spot where Steve had been lying beside her was still warm from his body. Despite this, her heart still took a small pang as she immediately thought the worst— _had I been played at my own game?_

Immediately after the thought crossed her mind, however, the smell of bacon filled her nose and she was instantly void of any worries again. She then briefly felt bad that she could think Steve was capable of leaving her after such a passionate and definitely not no-strings-attached night of lovemaking, though she got over the momentary guilt once she spotted Steve’s large Dodgers T-shirt draped over the nightstand beside her. He must have picked it up from where he had discarded it in the living room the day before and laid it out for her to wear earlier that morning, and without a second thought, she shrugged the oversized shirt over her head and bent down to pull her panties back around her waist.

When she opened the door to her bedroom, she immediately spotted Steve standing at her stove in the kitchen, chewing on a crisp piece of bacon while simultaneously frying others. The bacon dropped from between his lips as he let out a surprised noise once a spot of oil popped up and hit him in the abdomen, making him wince and curse as the bacon fell on the counter. Natasha watched him as he looked at the half-eaten strip and shrugged, taking it back in his fingers and popping the rest of it in his mouth, and then letting out one more small “ow” a few moments later when another sizzle of oil landed on the back of his hand.

Natasha finally let out a soft chuckle, bringing his attention to her where she was leaning against the bedroom’s doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest. Steve’s look of brief discomfort at the oil hitting him instantly disappeared as his face lit up at the sight of her, and she couldn’t resist pushing away from the bedroom to walk over to him in the kitchen.

“How long have you been watching me?” he smiled, easing back into their game while also turning his attention back to the food cooking before him.

Natasha wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed a small kiss to his spine. “Only a minute or two. You know, it probably would have made sense to fry bacon while wearing a shirt.”

Pressing the side of her face into his back, she felt him shrug. “You needed it more than I did.”

“Steve, this is my apartment. I have all the shirts I could possibly need _here_ ,” she pointed out amusedly.

“Fine, you caught me. I just wanted to see you walking around the apartment in my too-large T-shirt,” despite the sigh he gave, she could practically hear him smiling. “You happy?”

Natasha hummed. “I don’t know. Let’s eat breakfast, and then I’ll decide.”

Steve’s body rumbled against her ear as he let out a laugh, and Natasha decided right then and there that yeah, okay, she _was_ pretty happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you guys catch my "Falcon" and "Scarlet" references? Lol i'm not funny or suave.
> 
> Also, I understand that the Dodgers are a LA-based baseball team, but around the time Steve was alive in the 1940s the Dodgers were based in Brooklyn, so I thought it was fitting.


End file.
